


The Mage Rebellion

by GoblinGraveyard



Series: Tales In Kirus [1]
Category: Original Work
Genre: Body Horror, F/F, F/M, Fantasy, Gen, I'll add more tags as things crop up, Mage Rebellion, Magic, Rebellion, Uploads are going to be interesting, body horror isn't a huge thing but it's worth mentioning
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-08-05
Updated: 2019-09-05
Packaged: 2020-08-09 21:20:44
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 2,539
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20124019
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/GoblinGraveyard/pseuds/GoblinGraveyard
Summary: She sat on her iron throne,with the head of a God at her feet. Eighteen years old, and already the most powerful woman in Mabristan. She was alone in a room full of courtiers, weighed down by the knowledge that she was the last of her line. Her only inheritance; a crown she did not want, and a war she didn’t believe in.-Her body was heavy with the soul of a God she didn't believe in. Six years and she had still never gotten used to it. It was forever twisting, breaking her body in new and painful ways, splitting the skin again and again until her body was a mass of scars both thick and thin. Many ran around her body like a badly peeled orange, splitting her in jagged tears. Her bones had cracked, broken and shifted, fused only to snap, again and again,over and over, weaving in and out of her skin in a broken mess.-Two sisters on opposing sides of a battle neither had asked for, following their story throughout the biggest battle in the history of Kirus.





	1. Chapter 1

She sat on her iron throne,with the head of a God at her feet. Eighteen years old, and already the most powerful woman in Mabristan. She was alone in a room full of courtiers, weighed down by the knowledge that she was the last of her line. Her only inheritance; a crown she did not want, and a war she didn’t believe in.  
Her father, King Lysander of house Fernsby, had died in her absence. Grief, some say, from losing both his daughters. The truth was that his choices had finally caught up with him, a Navi assassin he had once hired to protect his only children had turned on him the very second he had sent his child to the gallows. 

“Queen Fraxinus, Godslayer!” the court had cheered as a crown of golden branches was placed on her head. They expected her to rule, to pick up where her father had left off. She wasn’t given a choice in the matter, it was simply duty. 

The throne should never have been hers,of this the young Elven queen was sure of. Her sister had been the better raised, better behaved, patient one of the twins. Fraxinus had always been rebellious, never paying any attention to her studies, yet there she sat upon the throne while her sister lay six feet under due to the magic in her blood. A mage. The very thing their father had been fighting against. He had to set the example, he had to set the standard even though it meant sending his own child to a slow and painful death.  
She was now held to that same standard,as the last Fernsby and her father’s legacy. She couldn’t simply back down, not when the news of her return had started a new uproar. She was believed to be dead for months, only to return to an empty throne, stronger than her father before her. It would be a while in the making, she was aware, but if she could finally end the battle that her father had claimed to be right, it would be worth it.

* * *

It had been years since then, and the war raged on, and with it her bitterness grew. She was now twenty four years old, married to a human woman from Shales and expecting her first heir. She had barely seen her homeland of Astria over the past six years, spending most of her time travelling throughout the ally country of Mabristan to keep up moral and fighting skirmishes. In her most recent battle, she had taken down the leader of the rebel mages, but that had only fueled the heat of war.  
A new leader had been brought to the foreground, a faceless hero willing to go up against the Godslayer herself. Fraxinus wanted to lose, to let this newcomer take over much like her own family took over from the Valcari family many centuries ago. The only thing holding her back was the unknown, and what could happen to her home,her remaining family,her child, if she let everything go.

She now sat in an uncomfortable chair in a rickety canvas tent that wasn’t doing anything to keep the rain out. Her Knight-Commander paced before her, speaking in jargon she only pretended to know. She ran her hands through her once long copper hair, and down her face.  
The commander, a faun of the name Math Thornchaser, stopped his proposition with a snort.

“I apologize, am I boring your majesty?”asked Math sarcastically. He was a man at least twice her age, and had served her father since before she was born. He had never gotten used to dealing with his previous ruler’s brat. 

“No. No, sorry” she sighed, looking up tiredly at the older man, “it’s just been a long time and we’ve gotten nowhere”

He didn’t seem pleased with her answer, but not much could please the man. The one thing he did seem to enjoy was describing the horrors of war to the young Queen, despite him never seeing a true war before now. 

“We have to act, and soon. What is your order?”

She heaved another sigh,waving a hand dismissively. As soon as the meeting was over she could sleep for what was the first time in days. “Do what you need to do,Math. You know more on the subject than I do”

His face showed no emotion,but she knew she had said the right thing, “very well your Highness, I’ll see to it.”

He left the tent, the flaps slapping open and shut with a wet thwack. Fraxinus covered her face with her hands before shakily standing, wincing as her body was still sore from the beating almost everyday for the past few months. Her hands quaked as they started unbuckling her armour, tossing each piece unceremoniously to the side with her greatsword.  
Collapsing onto her bed, sleep wasn’t easy despite the weariness and the deep feeling of just tired that ran through her bones. Her choices over the past few years kept her awake. She wasn’t perfect by any means, and she wouldn’t claim to be. Quite the opposite in fact. She wasn’t proud of what she had to do, and she could no longer blame her father for dropping the war on her. She’d never see his side, his side cost her her sister, so many innocent lives;mage or otherwise. She was worried about her future, of what she’ll be leaving her son or daughter. A land wracked with war?Citizens who fear their name?That wasn’t what she wanted, but it was too late to stop the war now. 

The new leader of the Mage Rebellion, nameless and faceless, but a formidable enemy who had been created in the ashes. The soldiers under her command had taken to calling this figure Tempest due to her ease in bending lightning to their will. No one who had fought them had made it back in one piece,many more charred. The soldiers now turn to Fraxinus to take down this new mage, she was the Godslayer after all. The so called Godslayer. If they only knew what really happened in The City of Glass.  
If they had they wouldn’t be so quick to call her a hero.


	2. Chapter 2

Her body was heavy with the soul of a God she didn't believe in. Six years and she had still never gotten used to it. It was forever twisting, breaking her body in new and painful ways, splitting the skin again and again until her body was a mass of scars both thick and thin. Many ran around her body like a badly peeled orange, splitting her in jagged tears. Her bones had cracked, broken and shifted, fused only to snap, again and again,over and over, weaving in and out of her skin in a broken mess.

She was taller now, she knew that much. Her shoulders wider,thicker. Bones weaved in and out from where her flesh had fused around the broken,jutting pieces. Her face had broken and fused more times than she could count,looking like a jigsaw that was forced together. She could barely recognise herself.

Lightning crackled in her veins and through her scars, lighting her up brighter than the winter light festival they held in Astria when she was a child. It burned. Every movement was electric, every thought was thunderous, threatening to crack her skull in two. This power had scared her enemies, but no more than it terrified herself.

He was never satisfied.

He was Siorr, an ancient God who had been forgotten long before King Aster's reign almost a thousand years ago. He raged, filling her head with schemes and thoughts, many of which ended in blood. He fed off of her resentment, her anguish. He had wanted what she did, to get back at her father for everything he's done.

Siorr was always there in the forefront of her mind, fighting her common sense and winning. He destroyed her memories to make room for his ideals. She was lucky that she even remembered who she was, where she came from, and why she was fighting. She couldn't remember her favourite food, or what it was like to feel the sun on her skin after travelling through harsh snow. She was barely alive. She shouldn't be alive.

She could feel it, her death. It was another thing she hadn't forgotten entirely, that feeling. Siorr would never let her forget that. It's what kept her going, what made sure that she avoided giving up at all costs. She refused to die again, not unless she takes her family down with her.

The Fernsby line would end with her.

* * * 

Blood stained the cobbled streets of Salgon. Charred bodies and melted armour littered the ground,windows smashed and fires raging. The small village of Duskvein never stood a chance against the attack. They had never expected another rebellion,not so soon, and especially not on their land.

The paths were clouded in a wall of putrid smoke that hung in the still air. The only light that came through was from the blue fire that burned at every building. Witchlight, a fire that burns until there's nothing left to consume.

How many had perished in the battle was inconclusive, and whether the villagers had fled in time was another matter entirely. Had they survived, the knowledge that it only took three mages to create such devastation would stay with them for as long as they lived.

Fennec heaved a tired sigh, filling her lungs with the smoke and ash,only to cough; a sound that rattled around in her ribcage. She leaned against her staff, the orb held firmly on the top with wooden claws crackled with the remaining energy - growing and receding with each of her breaths.

She stood alone in what used to be the village square, facing the large oak tree that once grew there but now stands with it's branches aflame.

"We should move on"she said softly, her dual-toned voice deeper and raspier than she was used to. She cleared her throat and turned to her companions, "We need to move on".

One of her companions, a young human woman with long black hair that shifted to white the further down it went, large grey eyes half obscured by even larger round glasses,stepped forward,dragging her own staff behind her. Fennec winced as the metal point screeched against the stone ground. "What?You can't be serious"

"We need to leave before the army catch up,Alison.It's the only way."

"But these people-"

"There's no hope for them, they're already dead, dying or gone. There's no hope for us either, if we stay."

Alison looked on in disbelief at the woman she had let into her home,nursed back to health, who she trusted enough to follow into the battle. The other mage; another Elven woman that goes by Bongwater Jones, and refuses to reveal her true name (unless her parents truly named her Bongwater, then Fennec was worried about the people under her father's rule),put her hand on Alison's shoulder only to be brushed off. Alison's eyes were aflame with anger as she rushed over to Fennec, roughly shoving her. Fennec looked her up and down in disbelief but made no effort to retort. It didn't quell Alison's anger, who glared and stepped threateningly closer, "you can't let innocent people die,Fenn, then you're no better than the people we're fighting".

"I'll never be like them"Fennec sneered, although stepping back,wincing as if she'd been hit. Her blank white eyes that held no soul seemed to glow along with the lines of scars that covered her body,pulsating with her heartbeat. The beast in her skull threatened to tear her apart, to take over, to show the mortal that It was not to be messed with. "My father had people strung up in the streets for being like us, beaten and killed. Had me killed. I'm being merciful".

Alison let out a laugh, a single note of pained sarcasm that couldn't be kept in, "merciful?These people have done nothing, yet we invade their lands to fight a problem that isn't theirs,not even this country's?That isn't mercy,Fennec, and you know it. I know what your father did, but he's dead. Our mutual friend took care of that already".

Fennec huffed. The deeper tone of Siorr's in her voice was more prominent, taking over her own husky,crackling vocal chords. Alison was right, of course. She wouldn't be able to take any revenge on her father, but she could fight the current ruler,whoever that was. With her father and sister gone, the crown must have surely been passed onto a living member of the Valcari family, or had been taken by force by another noble family. All she'd have to do is keep on fighting, return to Astria, and challenge the throne herself.

"If you don't like my methods, you can leave. I wont stop you"

Alison laughed humorlessly, "the only good thought you've had since leaving the cottage. I had a life, you know, before all this. I didn't have to help you".

"But you did"

"And you know what?I regret it. If I knew you'd be like this, I would have left you on the coast where we found you. If it wasn't for Lydia, I would have".

"Lydia's too good to me"Fennec said softly, barely audible. Her old bodyguard back at the palace, who had stuck by her since she was barely a woman. She had planned to return to her homeland of Naveer,on the East of Mabristan. She might have too, if Fennec hadn't washed up in Demus.

Fennec cleared her throat again,steeling her expression and looking into Alison's eyes the best she could. "If you want to leave, go. I'm sure you have better things to do than steer the fate of our people".

Alison snorted, "our people?You say that as if being a mage was a choice I was given. As if being a mage makes us family. We're not friends,Fennec. I've given you too much of my time already".

Fennec only huffed as Alison turned to walk away, squaring her shoulders and standing straight. She watched as Alison made her way through the path between the burning houses and shops, over the littered corpses and debris from the battle. 

"You're not going to stop her?"asked Bongwater,her ears pressed down against her head in anguish. 

"She's made her choice. We'll do this with or without her".

"But -"

"No buts"snapped Fennec,her expression contorted,the light beaming from under her skin glowing brighter. "I'm moving on, you can either chase after her or come with me".

Bongwater looked conflicted, her attention going back and forth between Fennec,who stood before her with murder in her eyes, and Alison, who had already made it out of the village and appeared to be heading toward the Salgon Watchtower where the previous rebellion took place. Taking in a large breath, she shook her head.

"I'm with you".


End file.
